Equal and Opposite Reaction
by BananaBirdNova
Summary: My Star (OC) origin story! Yay! Will have random stuff that I think will help all of you get to know her the way I do. Set in a lot of different times and places, but since she hangs out in the Transformers universes so much I thought I'd just stick it under that. Don't murder me for it. By Nova.
1. Creation

A/N: WELL. Great time for my computer to crash, eh? (glares at faulty hardware) But! Finally got this up, the infamous intro to Star Nova. Well, I guess she's not Nova yet. She kind of picked that up in the Transformer's universes. Anyway!

It's not going to be Transformers for a bit, but that's necessary to explain her. Sorry about that. It'll get there, don't worry. You should know Star existed before I was a Transfan. She's been around as long as I've been writing, basically. I don't even really remember where she came from. She's just... _there_.

Also, Bananabird and I spent like an hour sorting out the first paragraph. Stupid existential ideas that only exist as concepts in my head! There's a few of those hanging around in here... such a bother to get down in words.

Anyway. More coming soon! I hope! Tell me what you think.

* * *

Every world imaginable exists within its own Universe, and every Universe exists as an entity of unimaginable age; conscious on a level of subtlety no mortal and very few deities could ever understand, and connected through a network of energies that is each Universe's awareness. Woven within and among them are powers of both Light and Dark, creation and destruction; powers that determine their existence and sentience, and that of the creatures within them. The balance between these energies relies on the unconscious manipulations of the beings they contain; the mortals, the gods, and the demi-gods. But the Universes themselves have no hand in this process.

Thus there came a time when the Universes had a need. They needed a way to influence the Light and Darkness that existed within them; the good and the bad. For many ages these powers had been self-regulating, but with time the equilibrium had begun to shift, and not for the Light. The change was slow but steady, and the danger became very real. They needed a mediator.

And so they created a being; one lesser than them, but greater than all which existed in them, to keep their evil in check and maintain the balance. They shared him amongst each other, and it was given to him to have dominion over everything that was in them. He was their Voice and their Hands, giving them the power to directly influence the previously intangible forces that were the Light and the Dark. He filled their need and restored their balance with grace and ease, and in time the Darkness was restrained.

Then there was a time when this being they had created was not needed, and he was permitted to go where and do as he wished. His natural dominion gave him great wealth and power in the worlds and among the peoples of the Universes, and it was not long before he began to abuse this power.

This was unexpected, and the Universes were quick to realize their error in allowing him free reign, and then to realize their greater error; they had created this creature with no set boundaries or laws, and being virtually lawless granted them no power over him to punish, or halt, or command, and none whatsoever to destroy.

Almost the instant their creation understood the extent to which they could not control him, he ran wild with his power, doing anything to get what he wanted, and becoming what they had created him to tame. They had never encouraged him to grow, and so he remained as ignorant and as uncaring as a child to the pain and fear and malice that was left in his wake, where there were none with the ability to defend or deliver.

There was an attempt made to reason with him, and one of his firmest supporters eagerly undertook the task. The meeting did not go well, and their creation, driven mad with his power, swore that Universe's demise. He went to work immediately, and for them it was less than half an age before that Universe had grown cold and barren, lifeless within. He faded away beyond their reach and died as much as any of them could. Fear was not a natural thing for them, predator-less as they had previously been, but they learned it quickly.

And there was a time when the Universes again had a need.

After much deliberation, it was decided that a counterforce was needed. A second being was designed, equal to the first in many ways, but created with laws and restrictions that would govern it. Its purpose was to balance the evil caused by their first creation, to be the Light in the face of his Dark. This second child was created, carefully and with great caution. The laws they set for her were written in the very fabric of the energy they created her with, along with the simple yet potent resonance between her life and his. They were to be a pair, and she would change him; purify his corruption and bring him back to his purpose.

This they did not tell her.

She was told to be a guide and a director to the Light and Good within them. It was not so simple or easy for her, as it had been for the first. She was left to her own designs to make things right, and because of this she learned quickly and well. She grew to truly care about the creatures she assisted. They came to be family to her. The power of her emotions and connections heightened what she could do for good, gave her more power than the Universes had intended. But because of the laws they had set, she remained under control. She remained pure and uncorrupted by this power, doing only good continually within her creators.

They did not warn her of their first child, but the day of their meeting was looked to with great anticipation and hope. It was not very long in coming; he could sense this new being, and she intrigued him. Their first meeting was everything the Universes expected it to be. He was entranced by her. She was a wild force of nature he had never encountered before, intoxicating and free with an indomitable spirit and a heart open and waiting to receive him. They fell in love and came to care for each other very much, and the Universes were pleased. The two beings balanced each other well and they could see their first creation rising up out of his Darkness to stand in the Light.

But they had misjudged the Evil and the filth that he had become. His perversion ran much deeper than they had detected, and perhaps, if she had been warned of that, much grief could have been prevented. But she was ignorant and naïve and blinded by her love. It made the betrayal unexpected. It made her pain eternal.

He tried to catch her and hold her. He tried to take her and bend her to his will, make her a slave as he had done with every other creature he came in contact with, and put her in a cage to admire like a trophy. He tried, but she resisted, and he could not force it upon her as he could lesser creatures. He could not keep her and he could not destroy her, as he would have when she refused him, but he could hurt her. And he did. He burned her with a flame that could not be quenched, scarring her deeper than anybody else ever could have, physically, emotionally, and spiritually. This was a cause of much concern to the Universes, but, as with everything else he did, there was nothing they could do.

And so their daughter burned, inside and out, and they could only watch as she struggled through the pain and came out cold and hard; knowing how deeply one could feel for another, having a great capacity for pain of any variety, and understanding that the easiest and most effective way to not have to deal with that pain was simply to not feel at all.

She was lost to them for a very long while, even to their standards of time.

But then their first child returned to her and in an instant that shattered across the Universe they occupied, her apathy and ice exploded into hate. She was strong enough to drag him before the Universes' council, and was infuriated when they would do nothing to punish him. She wanted him destroyed and would not believe that they had not the capacity to do so.

While she was distracted he forced his way into a Universe and hid himself from her. When they explained why they had no power over him, she was suddenly calm, but remote and stony. She could see past their half-truths. She had honed that skill among the political fields of the mortals. She knew and understood now, what her purpose had been.

That was where the cold war between the Universes and their second creation had begun. She could not be wild as he who had gone before her because of the laws she was bound with, and she continued to do her duties as a mediator within them with the same amount of care to detail, though her actions lacked the small warmth they had still held up to that point. There was a rift between her and everything else. It was intangible and unseen, but it yawned wide to every Universe who cared to notice.

Many of them fear it will never be closed. They may very well be right. Some of them are hopeful that time will bring her back. And still others stay quiet as they communicate amongst themselves the fact that it doesn't matter. She will continue to do her job and contain the Darkness; they had created her with no option but to.

And in the end, that was all that mattered.


	2. Burned

A/N: Apparently this thing needs some context, so here it is. Ҫoradon's Universe was pretty much Star's first job. It was her training ground of sorts, and Ҫoradon (pronounced Sore-addon) was where she spent the majority of her time, and where this takes place. At this point in time it's futuristic with a touch of magic thrown in. They're pretty much the hub of the universe, where all the political leaders of the worlds meet and stuff (think like in Star Wars, um, third movie was it?). This is backing up from the end of the last chapter, back to the first event that changed the course of Star's life. Corintha was a prominent political worker that helped Star out a lot, and they turned into best friends. Liam's another good friend. And... I think that's what you need to know. Carry on!

* * *

It was Corintha who found Star the next day. She looked so fragile, curled up on the floor. The bright red burns that scaled her chest, neck, and face were terrifying, and still hot, as if her skin was still on fire. Corintha knew what had happened, and cursed the creature that had done it with the worst cursing she had ever given. Her anger was internal as well, though. She had seen this coming. If she had tried harder, could she have prevented it? She did not know.

But the damage was now done, and it was too late. Corintha could not undo this hurt. She could only care for her best friend and pray to her Creators that she could make it through.

Corintha took her and dressed her burns carefully, aware that her healing powers had no place with this injury, and that it would take a very long time before the pain would go away. She waited by the bedside, only leaving for short periods of time, and told no one what had happened. She knew Liam had guessed from his lack of curiosity towards the subject. He had seen the signs as well. The same question of 'what more could I have done?' was in his eyes, but there wasn't anything. They were mortals. She was not. They couldn't protect her from one of her own.

For many days she stayed still, never moving, hardly breathing, as Corintha cared for her. The burning stayed with her, just as hot as the moment the fire had touched her. It never went away.

The scariest moment for Corintha, though, was when _he_ came back; the one who had burned her. He came at night, in darkness, just as Corintha was preparing to rest herself. She was angry. She yelled at him. She stood between him and the one he had scarred, and would not let him see her. There was nothing she could have done to protect herself, had he attacked, but she stood in the way nonetheless, and told him exactly what she thought of him.

She knew a time when he would have punished her for it. Maybe even killed her for it.

But this time was different. Miraculously, he left without ever raising his voice or a finger to harm. Corintha waited for him to come back, to be angry. She calmed her shaking and didn't rest that night, or the next day, or the next night, until exhaustion drove her to sleep. He never came back.

And still Corintha waited for Star to heal.

It was midmorning, after three weeks of waiting, when she woke for the first time. Corintha could see the confusion in her eyes. It only lasted a couple seconds before the pain and the loss took over. Corintha didn't say anything. There was nothing she could say. There was nothing she could do to comfort her as she broke down, shattering in front of Corintha's eyes, and silently cried. She cried for the next few hours until she fell asleep again, and she cried when she woke up the next day, and the next day, and the next. She didn't eat, she didn't speak, she didn't move. She only cried.

Corintha would remember forever how Star's tears would evaporate when they touched her burns. She never forgot how destroyed she was when she lost her first love. She never forgot how he had killed her inside. She never told anybody what had happened. She never forgave him. And she never stopped caring for her friend.

It was the same thing every day for months. Star would wake up and silently cry until she fell asleep again. Corintha would talk to her every once in a while, but she never answered. She was in a separate state of existence—here, but not really here. Stuck in her own world of pain. Corintha would dress her burns when she fell asleep again. She had to wait longer every day. But the fire never left. It never even cooled a single degree.

When she would stay awake all day, things changed a little bit. She still cried, she still burned, but she would get up and look out the windows instead of lying in bed. It wasn't much, but it was a start, and Corintha had some hope for her. She didn't talk or eat, and she wouldn't let Corintha redress her burns, but she got up.

Things slowly improved after that. Corintha would talk, and Star would listen. She would even answer yes or no questions, sometimes. She still spent the majority of her time at the windows, staring out, alone, crying, silently burning. She still didn't eat. She wouldn't let Corintha take care of her burns, instead choosing to leave them uncovered, but then she started trying to heal them herself. It was a good sign of recovery. Corintha thought maybe she was stabilizing. She was worried Star would have a relapse when it didn't work, but the immortal merely retired to her room and was up the next morning, at the windows again, as if nothing had happened.

Corintha could almost see what was going on inside Star as she recovered, and she was afraid of it. She was afraid of the ice she was using on the burn. She was afraid of the doors she was closing to hide from the pain. She worried that what would come out of the tragedy would be someone different from her best friend, someone she didn't know. Something that wasn't Star. But she could only wait and see.

Corintha woke up as she usual did that morning. She got up, dressed, and went to the kitchen to get breakfast. She glanced through the door to the wall of windows, where she could usually see Star at this time of morning. She wasn't there.

This felt wrong to Corintha, so she went to find her, and felt a moment of concern when she found Star still in bed. But something had changed. Something was different. She was awake…

But she wasn't crying.

Corintha approached the situation cautiously, sitting down beside the bed and waiting. Nothing happened for several seconds. Star remained staring at the roof with her hands behind her head, looking oddly relaxed and … untouchable. Like nothing could hurt her.

She blinked, took in a breath, and said the longest sentence she had uttered since the day before Corintha had found her on the floor.

"He never loved me, did he?" Corintha thought about her meeting with him and hesitantly voiced her interpretation of it.

"I think he did. I think the problem is that he doesn't love you enough."

Star turned to look at her, and her eyes were a steel grey, contrasting with the summer sky blue they had once been and the heavy, cloud grey they had been the last few months. Corintha almost held her breath waiting for her to say something.

"It doesn't matter any more. I don't love him."

"No." Corintha shook her head. After a moment of silence she reached out to touch Star's neck where the burn had been the hottest. "The heat has left your skin. That is good."

"I was tired of the pain, so I made it go away." Star explained, her expression never changing, her voice emotionless. "And I was tired of crying, so I stopped. I think I'm done now. For good."

Corintha stared at her best friend for several seconds. This was what she had been afraid of. Star had locked her heart away in a safe and turned her emotions to stone. She didn't feel anything any more.

Because if she never got attached to anything, if she never cared, she would never get hurt again. It was the logical thing to do. Corintha could see that very plainly, and it made her heart ache.

She abruptly burst into tears, losing the calm she had held on to for the last few months, and Star just stared at her, mildly surprised. It didn't hurt her any more, to see Corintha in pain, but she remembered when it had and it bothered her that she didn't feel anything at all. She reached out and took Corintha's hand.

"I am sorry." She said. But they both knew it was too late.

She couldn't turn back now.

* * *

A/N (yes another one) He Who Has Not Been Named will be named... eventually... and you'll even get some of his perspective... eventually. Promise!

Now, on to T'reth!


	3. T'reth

A/N Alright, moving along with Star's life, this is the beginning of the end of that period where she just didn't feel anything and really didn't care about the stupid mortals and their stupid issues. It was a really long, really boring chunk of time where she worked in the background and didn't have a lot of direct contact with the mortals, unless one called to her directly. There's going to be a lot of skipping through this story line, but the big things will be here. Just know that T'reth was her tipping point.

In other news, the world is more medieval, magic again, and the Royalists are the oppressive, wealthy, uh, royalty. T'reth was born Royalist and Ackala was his house slave, but they're just about the same age and they ended up being best friends instead. When they got older Ackala functioned more as a body guard (mostly self-appointed) and his temper made it so that when the day came that a couple of young men from rivaling families ganged up on T'reth when he was alone and Ackala caught them beating the crap out of his best friend he ended up killing one of them. The punishment when a slave kills a Royalist is death, no exceptions. T'reth wouldn't stand for that, though, so he broke Ackala out of the dungeon and the two of them headed for the hills. T'reth was, you might have guessed, a slave sympathizer, and so after a bit of just wandering around they up and decided to lead a revolution with the hopes that T'reth's knowledge and natural leading ability would give them an advantage nobody else had had before them. They were right.

This is a good way into the movement, when they're starting to pick up speed and gain some people and small victories. Gree showed up a while ago, the only survivor of a farming community riot. His people were holding their own for a few days, until the Royalists sent in their sorcerers. He saw things that day that left him half mad for a few years, but he's pretty stable now. T'reth sort of took him in and started teaching him how to lead and appointed him third in command in hopes that he would step up to the responsibility, and he has. Anyway. I think that just about explains it. But look for these backgrounds in the author's notes. I don't have the mental material or patience to get this all down in story form now (maybe later), so you'll just have to take it like this.

UGH moving on to the actual story.

* * *

A bell clinked against the door as the three of them entered the tiny, dimly lit shack. The air was thick with incense smoke, and it seemed larger on the inside than it had looked outside. Maybe it was because the shack was stuffed to bursting with odd, curious items; objects made even more mysterious in the flickering oil light that shrouded them in dancing shadows. Gree stifled a cough as Ackala picked a way through the maze. There was an eerily heavy atmosphere in the old dwelling, causing all of them to glance warily into the dark corners and walk quietly, trying to not break the stillness.

"Hello?" Ackala called in an uncharacteristically subdued voice. "Anybody ho—" he abruptly jumped back with a grunt into T'reth as something moved in front of him, and they both teetered off balance for a moment, surrounded by breakable-looking objects with nowhere to go. Gree reached forward to steady them as a small, dark-skinned, heavily bejeweled woman stepped into the lamplight. She was as odd as the things packed into her house, adornments glinting like stars against her black skin in the lamplight. Her deep brown eyes seemed to absorb the same light and returned nothing for its effort and her clothes—or what of them that could be seen beneath her jewelry—were iridescent, shimmering three or four different colors as she moved. She was mesmerizing.

"Um…" Ackala tried to articulate. There were several seconds of awkward silence as the three men stared at the woman and she stared expectantly back.

T'reth cleared his throat, first to recover. "Are you Ӕparra?" He asked, leaning around Ackala to study the strange woman. She certainly _looked_ the part of a mystic.

Her eyes caught his gaze and held him entranced for what felt like a very long moment, pupils rapidly dilating and seeming to pull him away from himself, out into the open where she could _see_ him and inspect what she saw.

"Yes." She blinked and the spell was broken, leaving T'reth feeling slightly light-headed. "I am de one dey call Ӕparra." Her voice was rich and deeper than he would have expected for one her size, and he had never heard an accent like hers before.

"Oh." T'reth shook his head to dispel the last of the hypnotized feeling. "That's good. I'm…"

He trailed off as she sharply lifted a hand to silence him, bracelets clinking and fabric rustling silkily. "I know who you are. And I know who you seek." She made a vague gesture for them to follow and turned to gracefully weave her way through the piles of stuff. Ackala glanced back at T'reth questioningly and he motioned for him to go on.

"I don't like this, T'reth. She creeps me out—this whole place creeps me out." Gree nervously confided. "Are you sure this is safe?"

"Nothing's safe anymore, Gree. That's why we carry these." He patted his sword hilt. "That's why we're here. If even half of what we've heard about this creature is true, then we need her help, and you heard the locals. Ӕparra knows if anybody does." Gree didn't look very reassured, so T'reth paused to put a hand on his shoulder. "Don't worry, friend. If anything happens, the three of us can fight our way out of it." He turned to catch up to Ackala and Gree reluctantly followed.

"Some things can't be killed with steel." He muttered.

They passed through a low doorway with glass beads strung over it, stooping so they wouldn't hit their heads, and entered a brighter, more open but smaller room. There was a low table in the center, placed on a woven mat, that Ӕparra had seated herself behind. "Sit." She gestured at their side of the table and after a moment of hesitation Ackala cautiously complied, crossing his legs and pushing his sword hilt out of the way. He didn't let go once he was seated.

T'reth and Gree quickly followed suite, and then there was a moment of awkward silence. Ӕparra had taken a meditative pose and closed her eyes, still as a statue. She didn't look like she was going to come out of it anytime soon, either. T'reth was just about to say something when she did, opening eyes that were a much lighter color than they had been a moment ago.

"She calls herself Star." Ӕparra stated.

"Yes, we heard that." T'reth nodded. "Can you—"

She lifted her hand commandingly to stop him again. "Do not interrupt." She ordered. T'reth blinked in surprise, but subsided. "She is a being of Light; immortal. Created to balance good and evil. When she find a people to fight for, she is more dangerous than any weapon man can make wid his steel."

The three of them listened closely, intrigued as much by her voice as by the information she was giving them.

"She fight like wild cat, wid untamable fury until her enemy is in her grip, and den she hold dem like snake until der is no life left in dem."

Ackala leaned back, raising his eyebrows. "Well. She sounds like our kind of girl." T'reth would have agreed, but Ӕparra's mood suddenly shifted. Her dark features pinched together and a bronze gleam coated her deep brown iris' in anger.

"No. She is nobody's girl." Her eyes narrowed, but she wasn't glaring at Ackala. She was directing her anger at T'reth. "Her heart was destroyed long ago, she feel nothing now. She help only because she must. Don't think oderwise." Her eyes bored into T'reth as if she wanted to set him on fire.

Ackala was a bit taken aback. "Okay… good to know…"

"Do you, uh, know how we could find her? We really need her help." T'reth tried to change the subject and was relieved when the mystic settled, almost like a porcupine relaxing its quills. But she still had that hard look in her eyes and addressed herself only to T'reth.

"She is difficult to find, sometime here, sometime dere, sometime nowhere."

"You mean you don't know?" Ackala demanded incredulously. "Then what are we even doing here?"

"I am not her master." Ӕparra snapped, glaring and bristling again without taking her eyes from T'reth's. "I cannot tell her where and when to go."

"Patience, Ackala." T'reth murmured, reaching up to put a hand on his friend's shoulder, restraining him. "Please, go on." He encouraged Ӕparra.

"If you wish to find her, you must think her to you. But you must be sure you want _her_ to find _you_. If she come and decide she do not like you, she may not spare you. If you want her to fight for you, you must show her dat your cause is just and your enemy's not. If you think you can do dat, den you have a chance. If not, den to call her to you would be to die."

Gree shrank down, not liking the sound of this at all. Even Ackala was suddenly a bit unsure.

"Thank you, Ӕparra. Come on, let's go."

Gree was out the door before the words were off T'reth's lips, and Ackala was not far behind.

"T'reth," Ӕparra said softly before he could follow, and he paused to turn back. She was still sitting at the table, and when she looked up at him her eyes had lightened to a golden hazel.

"You must be very careful if you do not wish to die." She warned.

He nodded, and then slipped through the beads after his men.

"And you must be even more careful if you do not wish to destroy her again." She added in a whisper, pulling a large, pure white feather out of the air and setting it on the table. "Child of de Sun."


	4. Good Fortune

AN; school. school has swallowed me whole. ugh. *_*

* * *

When the meeting tent was empty of his officers again T'reth put his elbows on the table and dropped his head into his hands with a weary sigh, massaging his temples in an effort to ease his mounting headache. People were still joining in their resistance effort, but what had once been waves of support were now only trickles. The Royalists were pushing back, loading more oppression and punishment on the communities and towns still under their control. The people were afraid.

T'reth was, too.

It had been a little over two months since Star had come and gone. He had tried, once he had worked up the courage, to call her back and ask for her help a second time despite Ackala's protests, but she hadn't come. He still reserved some hope where the other officers had abandoned it that she would return and agree to assist them, but that hope was quickly dwindling, like a small candle running out of oil to burn. In the meantime, they couldn't sit around and wait for her. They continued to plan and work as if the immortal had never been, but there was only bad news and difficult decisions at the moment , and T'reth felt the weight of leadership on him all the time. Despite most of their number being farmers and manual laborers, food was an issue. They never stayed in one place long enough to plant crops, and moving any sort of supplies on the roads was out of the question; Royalist spies and checkpoints were everywhere. Obtaining weapons of any kind was a monumental challenge; they had few metal workers and even fewer ways to obtain raw materials for them to work with. Their greatest source of metal was farming and hunting tools, and once they had melted those down for swords and arrows they had none left for armor of any sort and not much for gathering food. The cycle was endless and troubling. T'reth knew that if they didn't get some sort of good fortune, and soon, the resistance was going to fall apart. And if they lost this opportunity and the momentum they had already gained, T'reth knew the Royalists would not be so easily surprised again. This was their chance, and it might be their only chance for a good long while. They could not afford to lose it.

Thinking about the situation wasn't getting his headache to lighten up, so T'reth sat up with another sigh, deciding that there were things he really ought to see to.

And then froze. And stared.

The Goddess at the other end of the table folded her wings a little closer to her back as she regarded him. Her face was smooth and emotionless, giving absolutely none of her thoughts away to the man. She blinked.

"It has been long since a Child of the Sun has called to me." She said out loud.

T'reth opened his mouth to ask about the unfamiliar title, but then decided he should probably keep quiet and wait to see if she was really here to help. Some part of his heart was dancing with renewed hope, but his mind hushed it, wary of the crushing disappointment that could result from it if the immortal refused to assist them.

"The last of the pure-bloods who did was unworthy." She stated calmly. "He didn't last through the initial plea before I destroyed him."

A chill settled in T'reth's gut. For a moment he wondered if Ackala's inner ear was ringing on the far end of camp and wished he had the same mystical ability to sense danger the way his friend did. But then he realized that it would be pointless, anyway. There wasn't anything he could do to defend himself should the immortal decide to kill him.

The being in question tilted her head very slightly as she continued to stare him down with her silver-coated eyes. "But you are not like him, T'reth of the Sun Clan." She murmured. There was silence for a moment and T'reth wondered if he was supposed to reply, but then Star straightened, spreading her dark wings.

" I find your cause honorable T'reth, son of M'drand, worthy heir of the Sun's Light, and I will support it—and you, so long as you remain true to it—as far as I am able, according to my ability and power, on my own terms and in my own time . But know this, mortal," and the tent rippled as a hot breeze swelled through it, making T'reth blink rapidly. The Goddess spread her arms, light gathering about her as she rose several feet above the hard-packed earth, and her sharp features were set in a sever expression, the sort that you didn't argue with. "You have no power to command me, and you never will. Do not dare to think otherwise."

The human shook his head mutely and the immortal seemed to accept his response, settling back to the ground and folding her wings in again. "Good. Now that the formalities are out of the way, we can get to work. Continue to lead your army as you will. I won't tell you what to do, but I will offer council and help you do it."

She pulled a piece of paper seemingly out of thin air and dropped it on the tactical map on the table. T'reth identified it as a smaller version of their own map, labeled with several different colors of dots and lines. A small box in the corner gave meaning to the different marks and the General's jaw almost dropped as he recognized the symbol beside the red dot as the Royalist's seal. They were Royalist military camps, outposts, patrol and supply routes, armories; everything they had been trying to figure out was right there on that piece of paper. T'reth looked up to thank the Goddess, but she wasn't there anymore.

" Thank you ." He said anyway, figuring that if she could hear a thought she would hear him say it. Then he snatched up the paper and hurried out to call another meeting with his officers.

This changed everything.


End file.
